Illuminate
by iconoclasticGentleman
Summary: Overall Matthew was rather satisfied with the way that July 1st had panned out for him. It wasn't big, it wasn't much attention, but he told himself it was enough. / Miniature hints of MapleTea, but mostly familial. A very happy birthday to our very own Matthew Williams!


**I honestly had no plans to write anything for Canada Day until yesterday, when I realized that the next day actually _was_ Canada Day. And I didn't plan that until about midnight when I started thinking up this. As such, this is rather awkward and definitely not my best work, but I wanted to put something out for our poor Mattie, who oftentimes gets shafted today from anyone who isn't Canadian. And from fanfiction writers, who tend to turn his birthday into an angstfest sometimes. **

**I wanted to avoid that somehow, and this came out. It had a clearly defined plot in the beginning... that sort of disappeared as I kept writing. I was also meaning to throw in some MapleTea and only a few lines actually showed that, so I feel like it's a bit awkward but I don't care. I'm moderately satisfied, and I hope you are too! **

* * *

"Ah, isn't it nice out here Kumajudo?"

Matthew sighed in satisfaction, wriggling around to try and get more comfortable on the rustic bench. His bear whined in protest and Matthew finally stopped moving, chucking as he draped himself back over Matthew's legs.

"Yeah," the bear snuffled, staring out over the blackness of the lake, its surface speckled with the reflection of the Canadian stars. "Quiet."

"Quiet, hmm? Well, it's not like I'm not used to that," the blond thought out loud, absently stroking Kumajiro's fur.

Although, it's not like he wouldn't enjoy a little rowdiness and celebration sometimes, especially today of all days.

Oh, it wasn't as slow as some people made it out to be. He had dragged Cuba up north earlier and the Caribbean country was happy to come hang out with him, if a little out of his element in the different weather. Apparently thinking Canada was cold _every_ day of the year, he had arrived wearing a heavy jacket and pants, which made Matthew explode with laughter that didn't cease for a long while. The Cuban was only happy to see his friend entertained.

Papa Francis had visited earlier too, although his country was enveloped in political strife and he couldn't stay long. He had brought Matthew a lovely, homemade cake, which they carefully cut to each have a piece and Matthew made sure the rest of it was safe in his refrigerator. Francis's affections were a little... outspoken, to be sure, but on a day like this Matthew was ashamed to admit he lapped every bit of it up.

Even Alfred had found the time to fly over and greet him, despite his own preparations for his coming day. With a large hug and a bigger even smile, he pushed something small into his hands and leaned back, a twinkle in his eyes.

"Sorry bro, I've gotta race out of here! Still enveiled in preparation for the HERO's big party, yanno!" And with a wink, he shoved Matthew away from him by the forehead and disappeared just as fast as he had come.

When he got home to look in the mirror, Matthew was delighted to see that a maple leaf was plastered on his forehead and not the stars and stripes.

He was also bemused, but rather touched by the little present: simply a slip of paper, decorated in both stars and maple leaves, that declared "I O U one ranting session or shoulder to cry on, free of charge. Love you Matt, Al".

Yes, overall, Matthew was rather satisfied with the way that July 1st had panned out for him. It wasn't big, it wasn't much attention, but he told himself it was enough.

And how else to end it than staring up at the stars? Matthew had a small lake in the north that he liked to visit and was currently gazing out at its pristine surface with his only static companion, Kumahado. Or was it Kumaniro? Eh, he was sure the bear didn't care.

"Look," Kumajiro's little bear voice interrupted Matthew thoughts, as he wiggled a paw, looking up. Matthew followed his gaze and was stunned to see faint traced of bright green in the sky, that slowly waved as aquamarine and magenta sparkled with it.

Matthew was still just as in awe today as he was the first time he had seen them and he was sure he would also was be just as enchanted by its beauty.

"The Aurora Borealis," he murmured to himself with a surprised smile and bright violet eyes. "I thought it wasn't the right time of year for that. Guess today's special, huh Kumajiro?" The miniature polar bear's ears perked up, but he said nothing. "Aren't they beautiful?"

"Absolutely stunning," a different yet achingly familiar voice answered his rhetorical question, sounding for all the world like Matthew had asked him.

Matthew stiffened, trying not to let his surprise show but failing as he turned around on the bench. England's hands were stuffed in his pockets as he stared up at the sky, and his eyes gave nothing away as he looked back down at Matthew. "May I sit?"

"Oh, uh, sure," Matthew cursed his sudden nervousness as he shifted a bit over to make room. Kumajiro grumbled a bit and Matthew started petting him, if only to have something to distract himself as England took a seat.

He stared out at the illuminated sky, twisting with its particles of color, not sure what to say. Luckily, he didn't have to say anything.

"Look," England cleared his throat, and wouldn't it be funny if he was just as nervous as Matthew? "I must apologise."

"Huh?" The blond turned to him in confusion. "For what?"

England was also just staring up at the sky, and his hands were fidgeting too. "I would have gotten here earlier, at a decent time, but my Prime Minister had some "urgent" business he needed taken care of before I left, and of course the airports always have delays of some kind, and, er..."

Matthew's lips twitched up into an amused smile. "Why don't you just say that you were feeling sick?"

England looked mildly scandalised. "I was not! Er, well, maybe I have a bit of a cough, but the airports truly were delayed. And, and even if I was sick," now he looked ashamed, and Matthew was _not_ comfortable with the way that made him feel, "it's not an excuse."

He turned his head and caught Matthew's gaze, and the nation was taken aback by the sheer _regret_ in his eyes, and how exactly the green color matched the colors in the sky. "For all these past years, my... my illness has laid me up around this time of year, and I end up wallowing in it for who knows how long, doing nothing but being pathetic. And here you are, quietly celebrating your own damn Independence Day, by yourself when you should be surrounded by friends and family."

"I had friends over earlier," Matthew said quietly, not particularly liking the way England made it sound like he'd spent the day totally alone. The Briton seemed to realise that, hearing the steel in his tone and looking contrite. "Cuba spent the day with me, and Papa visited earlier. Even Alfred made time to come visit me."

Evidently that wasn't the right thing to say, as Matthew could _feel_ England stiffening and beginning to retreat into his shell.

"And I didn't," he murmured to himself. But before Matthew could reassure him, England went on, lost in his thoughts. "Even amongst all his other preparations for that damn celebration he still finds time to visit his brother on his birthday."

Now Matthew got to intervene, turning all the way to face England with his body on the bench. "And even if he hadn't remembered, I would have been okay with that," he said.

That was a lie. If Alfred hadn't said anything, Matthew knew he would have been upset, but would have hidden it. But right now he was just trying to get England out of this self-destructive talk and so he really didn't care what was truth and what wasn't.

England seemed not to believe that, either, but said nothing as Matthew went on honestly. "I could care less about when you got here, or whether you were sick or not from being stuck in the past. I'm just glad you're here now."

And that was the truth.

A truth that, as Matthew looked into England's luminescent eyes, could see that he believed. His whole body relaxed as a weight was taken off of his shoulders, and his lips twitched upwards until a hint of a relieved smile was on his face, one that made Matthew grin.

"Well then, er..." he didn't look like he knew what to say. "What's with the maple leaf?"

Matthew laughed, his own stress melting away as he began to eagerly recant the tale of their meeting, and the origin of the forehead thing in the first place. "And the jerk even said that he was 'making me awesome'! ...are you listening to me?"

The blond nation pouted, but froze when he looked over at England to be instantly captured in his intense gaze again. He felt uncomfortable by the attention but didn't want to fidget, so tried to meet England's eyes with a modicum of confidence.

Finally, the Briton spoke, quietly and reverently. "You truly have grown up into a fine young lad," he said. " A man I would be proud to call my brother."

Were they brothers?

Staring at England under the magic of the northern lights, Matthew wasn't sure if that was what he wanted. But his mind refused to stray any further at the moment into any hypothetical kinds of relationships. He set it aside.

The Canadian could do nothing but smile at the ground, cheeks pinking. "That means a lot, coming from you England."

England scoffed. "Shouldn't. And call me Arthur, lad, please."

Now that was something that meant a lot. Matthew wasn't sure if there was _anyone_ who was allowed to call England by his human name, except Papa Francis in the rare moments when they were getting along. He wasn't sure if Alfred even knew what it was.

He looked back at him, seeing England- Arthur, with a faint and tenuous, yet sincere smile and bright eyes. Matthew matched both with his own delighted expression.

This really was his best birthday ever, he decided.

Some of his aboriginal people, when Matthew was very young, used to believe that the aurora borealis was a group of human spirits, dancing and playing together in the sky. Matthew had long since lost touch with these legends and their belief in gods, but he swore now to thank those spirits somehow, someday.

His watch beeped, signaling midnight. Kumajiro yawned, and Matthew decided that just because the day had ended, and July 2nd had come, didn't mean this weird yet welcome camaraderie with Arthur had to go away.

"Wanna go have a piece of cake?" He asked.

England's nose scrunched up. "The cake that France brought you?" He looked so torn between wanting to eat the deliciousness that was a French dessert and not wanting to touch anything made by France that Matthew just had to laugh.

"Come on, I won't tell him," he winked, offering him a hand to stand. After a moment of hesitation, the Englishman took it and Matthew's only thought was that Arthur's hands were surprisingly warm.

The blond nation scooped Kumajiro up into his arms, shuffling the little bear around as he tried to get comfortable again. He looked at Arthur, and when the man smiled at him Matthew couldn't help but grin back as they started walking back to the house.

Behind them, the northern lights continued to flicker across the surface of the lake in waves, blues and greens and pinks mingling to create a panorama of color.

The same lights rippled across the sky in front of the two nations, illuminating their way.

* * *

**The lake that Matt and Kuma are sitting by is called Lake Laberge, and it's supposed to be a nice area to see the Aurora Borealis. Look up pictures, as some of those greens are absolulely acidic. As for the timing, well... creative liberties? The only reason the northern lights aren't often seen in the summer is because it's too light out, but... yeah, creative liberties is my answer. **

**Now to write something for Alfred's birthday... **

**I hope you enjoyed, and please review! :)**


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